Reign
by EternalVeritie
Summary: Hermione's world is turned upside down with a startling discovery. Not only will her life change, but long-hidden secrets will come to light, haunting those who tried so hard to ignore them. Those who were wronged will seek revenge, and those with power will find themselves without. Pureblood!Hermione Rated T for caution, might go up in later chapters.
1. Welcome

**A/N: This is my first multi-chapter story. I have a vague idea for where I want this to go, but I don't have more chapters written. Enjoy!**

The locket. Her locket. The secrets it hid.

Hermione sunk to the ground, the cold cobblestone making her shiver, though perhaps she was already shaking. Something inside her knew it was true, yet she most definitely didn't want to believe it. Her whole life was a lie. "For her protection," they had said.

She rose slowly, carefully, willing her legs to stop shaking. There was only one way to know for sure. Summoning all of her Gryffindor courage, she walked up to the gate, the cold, strong iron bars. With a swift wave of her wand, she pricked her finger and squeezed out a single drop of blood. She followed its path, watching as it hit the ground and slowly faded. As it disappeared, she saw a word etch itself in the drop's place. "Welcome," she read, and the gate swung open.

She woke up in a blind panic, unsure of where she was. Hermione was surrounded by shades of violet and grey, a far cry from the red and gold of her room. Her heart began returning to its normal pulse as she took in the high vaulted ceilings, the carvings on her bedposts, and the fading blankets that covered her. She remembered. She remembered everything. "Welcome," it had said. The house had recognized her, accepted her, established her as the heir, the last living member of the House of Sagitta. There she was, in some room in the depths of Sagitta Manor, no longer sure of who she was or what she was doing. As she reached over to get her wand off of the night stand, a sharp crack resonated around the room, causing Hermione to fall off the bed. She sat up with a frown to see a small house elf peering at her, wringing her little hands, ears flopping.

"Spotty be so sorry, Mistress." Spotty looked at her nervously, eyes nearly brimming with tears. "Spotty be a bad elf."

Still somewhat in shock, Hermione did not answer promptly, a sign which the elf took to be displeasure. Spotty ran back a few steps, and began running straight at the bedpost, banging her head with a thud, muttering, "Bad Spotty." Once again she set to repeat the process.

Hermione found her voice again. "Spotty. Stop!" she commanded. The house elf froze mid run, on the verge of toppling over.

"Spotty has been a very bad elf. Spotty has caused Mistress to fall."

Hermione shook her head. "You're a good elf, Spotty. Please stop hurting yourself. In fact, I forbid you from ever hurting yourself."

Spotty's eyes widened. "Mistress is very kind to Spotty. Is Mistress be needing anything?" Seemingly, Spotty was the elf of the House of Sagitta, thanking Hermione for coming to the Manor. "It's be lonely here. Spotty has kept the Manor clean and tidy for Mistress. Spotty knew Mistress would return."

Hermione paused for a minute. "What can you tell me about Sagitta?"

The house elf jumped up in surprise and excitement at this. She took Hermione by the hand and dragged her down many long hallways with so many twists and turns that Hermione was sure she was in a maze, that she'd never be able to return to the room. After much walking, they arrived at the library, a large domed room, with high vaulted ceiling and more books than even the Hogwarts library. Hermione's jaw dropped. No better place to begin her research, to try to figure out what was going on. She was so in awe that she didn't even notice Spotty let go of her hand and disappear into the endless shelves. At a slight tug on the hem of her muggle t-shirt, she looked down to see the elf standing with a large tome. She dusted it off to reveal the title, _Sagitta: Dritto e Vero_. She sat down at a table and opened the book, reading endlessly for hours, each page revealing a lost history, the story of the Scared 29 families, and how they became 28.

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed the beginning. Future chapters will most likely be longer; I just wanted to get this posted. Review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Discovery

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hermione, Grindelwald, Voldemort, nor the Sacred 28. I do, however, own Sagitta and Prattertome. I will continue to own these, therefore I won't tag a disclaimer on every chapter. Consider this an umbrella disclaimer.**

 **A/N: Beyond the first paragraph, everything is a recount of the information found in Hermione's book.**

Hermione sat pouring over the book all night. As the sun came up, she sat back and closed the book, rubbing her eyes, shocked by the things she had just read. Originally, there were 29. One bad decision, one secret hidden, and then there were 28.

Before Grindelwald, there was another. Plinexis Prattertome, now lost to history, buried by lies, could be hailed as a force more terrible than Voldemort or Grindelwald. Even the powers they held combined couldn't match his while he was asleep. He had been known to lash out in said sleep, able to shoot straight and true even with both eyes closed. He'd left wreckage in his wake, only destroying selectively, although no one could figure out why he had targeted certain victims. It had been seemingly random, though clearly well planned and thought out. Each position of his minions had been so carefully orchestrated; those attacks in which he'd led others, not a single Auror had been able get through to his line of fire if he's so desired. Purely on a show of sheer strength and power, Prattertome had raided homes and had set public squares on fire singlehandedly. Never had an Auror matched him, even the most powerful of curses had been deflected to form mere papercuts. Those had served only to incense him further, most often resulting in a pile of ashes where the Auror had once stood.

Clearly to his enemies, he had brought his wrath swirling upon them, terrorizing those who he'd decided would get him where he needed. To his supporters, those too cowed to oppose him, and those who doted on his every desire, Prattertome had showed the greatest of mercies. To those decidedly neutral, he had surprisingly refused to bring harm; he had simply enjoyed anything which destroyed them, only never causing the destruction himself.

In that time, Purebloods had been the leaders, the government, the healers, the innovators. Each and every pureblood family had pride in its stature, blood supremacy the only ideal. 29 such true Pureblood families existed. 28 had supported Prattertome, some from fear, all clearly believing that his strikes against muggleborns were justified. The 29th family, the House of Sagitta, had remained neutral, never taking any sides in any war, only loyal to family. No cause was desperate enough for them to break their peaceful natures. The other families had respected their tendencies and ideals, and they'd even gone as far as to divulge deep secrets to the trustworthy Sagitta.

The terror reign had continued, outside the blissful bubble occupied by the elite. One day in the hot summer months of 1880, Prattertome had gathered the people of magical Britain to his countryside manor. There on a stage raised for all to see, the great man stood, dressed in black from head to toe. With poise, he began to speak what was to be his last speech.

"From my soul, there will be three. Each will serve to uphold my name. Each will be driven by a single goal, stronger than anything else. The first will rise before you soon, heed my words. Driven by power he shall be, the need to control, to master over all. Betrayed, he will be, by one close at hand. The second will bring about the end of the first, obsessed with immortality. He shall rise twisted, and reign twisted, and die twisted, and haunt, still twisted. The third will rise against the odds, ending the regime of the second. A queen she shall be, consumed with revenge. Her path is unclear, either demolishing this earth to watch it burn, or tearing it to shreds to bring from the ashes something anew, a greater peace.

Same they are, yet so different. Each to be mocked as youth, each to be stripped of innocence before the need arose. Two will seem pointedly Dark from childhood, never shaking it, while the other will start Light. Two will befriend the guardian of the Light, while the other will destroy ever semblance of that side. Two can be saved with the most innocent of Light powers, one for whom it will be too late, while the other will remain unaffected. Each will know the hallows, will be one step to mastering Death himself, yet will never succeed.

Know this, people of magic, no mere mortal nor wise wizard will be able to survive all three. Far and wide you may run, but my soul, you will never outrun. Fight all you may, but the future will unfold. Learn from the first, learn from the second. Save the third. Save yourselves and this world. I am but the first manifestation, I enjoy having the world at my feet. May terror spiral insanity now for a long while yet as I take my leave."

With those parting words and a bow, Prattertome waved his wand and ascended a short set of steps, walking off the other end into nothingness all around.

 **A/N: Hope you know who the first, second, and third parts of Prattermore's soul are! The next chapter will shed some light on how 29 became 28. Reviews are wonderful, as always!**


	3. Betrayal

**A/N: Woo! Over 1000 words! Couldn't update yesterday, so I thought I'd give y'all a bit more today! Also, to my guest reviewer on the first chapter, I haven't picked a pairing yet, and there won't be one for a while. This story is Hermione-centric with lots of power and magic and darkness; not much time for love. We'll cross that bridge when we get there.**

Supporting Prattertome, were 28 of the original 29 Pureblood families. Some gleefully joined in, murdering muggles and muggleborns in cold blood. These, Hermione noticed, were the ones considered Dark Families today: the Blacks, the Carrows, the Lestranges, the Malfoys. Others joined his side simply to provide better opportunities for their children, not wanting to incur his wrath, nor truly wanting to kill. They provided funding, never lifting a finger against an innocent. These were the Neutral Families: the Greengrasses, and the Ollivanders. Shockingly, the Crouches were considered neutral, right up to the time when Barty Crouch Jr. became a Death Eater. Others families were forced, only doing his bidding for fear of their safety. These Light Families, the Weasleys, the Abbotts, and the Longbottoms, aided by passing morally questionable new laws. Together, these 28 families added to the destruction, each feeling justified in what it was doing, believing that its destiny was to follow the higher path.

The Sagittas stood alone, completely neutral, separate from the destructive force that was Prattertome. In no way helping either side in the war, they never had any of the benefits that the other families received, but they also never suffered at his hands. The Dark Lord of that age had a slight respect for their firmness in remaining untouched and not getting involved. He saw those on his side as weak and bowing to his every wish, even those who fully supported his cause. They were brainless, unthinking people. Those who opposed him were simply sheep to be slaughtered.

The other families, however, didn't know this, nor would he ever share these thoughts with them. They believed he hated everyone not on his side, and he'd let them. It was better for his cause. Unfortunately, this led to the 28 believing that the Sagitta thought themselves better than everyone else. They were too superior to fight and dirty their hands. They were too superior to bow down to the Dark Lord. They were too superior to be cowed by fear. Soon, they were hated, although they were still part of the elite. Hatred in those circles simply followed rumors, but the family never paid heed to them. They were never true anyway, all entirely based on fiction and were easily proved wrong.

And then the dark reign ended. Prattertome concluded his speech that day and simply vanished. For a week, a month even, everyone lived in fear. Was this just a test? Would he come back to punish those who celebrated his supposed demise? But eventually, people began to forget. His prophecy was believed to be false. After all, no matter what other talents the man, the monster, may have had, he most definitely had no Seer abilities in him. They went on with their lives, but too much damage had been done. Justice had to be served, and the man responsible for the crimes committed was no longer there to pay for them. The 28 Pureblood families were in a panic. The Light families were disgusted with themselves for going along with the plans of a madman. The Neutral and Dark families knew that they had fallen in with the losing side and preserving their good names meant one thing: pinning the blame on someone else. So with a gleeful passion from the Dark families, a resigned insistence from the neutral, and a guilty dedication from the Light, the Pureblood families took to the press.

The easiest, most straightforward solution was to blame the evil on someone high up yet someone who had not shared their beliefs. As it was, the Sagitta remained peacefully minding their business, helping the innocent of the land heal and punishing the guilty. Then the newspapers latched onto the stories. The Sagittas were behind it all. Prattertome was allied with them. Why else would he have never lifted a finger against them? Slander and propaganda rocked Great Britain, tearing apart the respectability of the family bit by bit. Of course, they retaliated by denying everything, by attempting to spread the truth, but everyone needed a scapegoat, and it just so happened that they were the ones thrown under Knight Bus. Slowly the killings began, brutal torturing meant to main first, then kill. One by one, the family members were picked off and desecrated in a manner worse than muggle lynchings. The Pureblood families took out all of their hate against the Sagittas, plotting their demise, but letting the common people take out their rage against them. They were left in the best of lights while the poor, innocent family was almost entirely wiped out. Almost, because one of their number, the youngest son, in fact, barely 16, pulled together all of his family's resources and escaped to France. He staged his death, the last of the once-great, once-respected family. As he started his new life in a new country, wealthy but still young and lost and alone, he plotted revenge. He planned the destruction of those who killed his family. He would one day worm their way back into those circles. They would rise from the unknown and make them all pay. Meanwhile he had to lay low. He began settling down in France, starting a new life away from the traitors. He watched the farm bailiffs in the countryside, demanding payment and taxes from the rich, mighty nobles. He saw a poetic justice in that. People worth almost nothing, yet who still had the elite bowing down to them. "Grangier" they were called, except that was too French. _Granger_ , he thought, _Granger would be the perfect name_.

Back in England, the now Sacred 28 families celebrated their victory. They hated Sagittas were slaughtered and no longer did their jealousy burn so brightly. Hints of fear began to creep in instead. What if the common people found out that the Sagittas hadn't in fact been guilty of any of the crimes they were accused of? What if people became too curious? That wouldn't do. So they rewrote history. They erased every mention of the Sagittas in textbooks, never taught about the family in Hogwarts. Those close to them were brainwashed so deeply that they became mere shells of their former selves. They left the Manor, so heavily warded, and everything inside as well, completely intact. Only those of the family could enter, and there was no such family left, so it never mattered anyway. In just a few short years, betrayed by those they called brothers and sisters and best friends, it was as if the Sagitta had never existed.

 **A/N: I promise the focus will shift back to Hermione in the next chapter. I just needed to give this back story as she is finding this out for herself. Prepare for a snarky, furious, badass Hermione, with as many Slytherin traits as Gryffindor! As always, please review.**


	4. Encounters

**A/N: Returning to the present, rather than the backstory. It is 2002, and Hermione is 23. Also, a huge thank you to boobearhplover for reviewing! You're awesome!**

Hermione shut the book with a thud, letting it fall onto the glass coffee table. Rubbing her eyes blearily, she looked out of the window to see the sun rising. Had she really read through a whole day and night without realizing it? No wonder she felt so hungry. Then, she noticed the small plate of sandwiches and the cup of hot jasmine tea on the other side of the table. A smile briefly crossed her face. As she began devouring the sandwiches, her mind whirled with all of her newfound knowledge. "That's the most unladylike manner of eating I've seen," a voice cut through her thoughts.

Hermione shrieked, dropping her half-eaten sandwich in her lap. Looking towards where the voice had come from, she saw a large portrait on the eastern wall of the library. A tall man with dark hair looked down at her, stern but slightly amused. "Who are you?" she snapped, annoyed at his smirk.

That smirk quickly turned into a frown. "You dare to ask who I am? Have your parents not taught you anything?"

Slightly offended, Hermione replied, "I'm a muggleborn. So of course my parents wouldn't have taught me who some cranky man in a portrait is." She paused slightly. "I'm sorry. That was quite rude of me. But no. I don't know who you are."

The portrait looked momentarily confused, before he schooled his features back into a tight aristocratic mask. "You're not a muggleborn. You're in my house aren't you?" He watched as Hermione's face crumpled and any semblance of defiance left her body.

"So it's true, isn't it?"

"What is true?"

"I'm not originally a Granger, but instead a Sagitta?"

The man seemed to show some compassion towards her, a feeling her hadn't felt in the almost century of emptiness in the Manor, or basically since his death a half-century before that. Even during his lifetime, few truly earned his trust and his love. Somehow, this witch, with her different mannerisms and defiant attitude, had already wormed her way into his heart, and he swore to teach her the things she clearly had yet to know about. He wondered what had gone so drastically wrong that one of his heirs would completely not know her heritage. "What's your name, my dear?" he asked in a voice so warm even he was surprised.

"Hermione Jean Granger. Uhm. Actually Hermione Sagitta, I suppose." She said this so morosely. Everything she knew about herself was a lie. She didn't even know her middle name. Was it still Jean? Was her first name still Hermione? She figured she'd keep the Hermione Jean. She'd always liked her name. Maybe she'd even keep the Granger and just tack on Sagitta at the end? Hermione Jean Granger Sagitta. It had a nice ring to it.

She looked back up at the portrait who was silently observing her. "Sir? Mr. Sagitta?" she asked hesitantly.

"The name is Neoptolemus."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Neoptolemus? Like the son of Achilles?"

The man countered with, "Hermione? Like the daughter of Helen?" He went on to tell her that it was a tradition for members of the Sagitta family to be named for Greek heroes, especially those involved with the Trojan War.

Hermione chatted with him for a bit longer, before suddenly realizing what she had meant to say before. She took her leave from him and attempted to go back to her room. She knew she needed some time to process everything that had happened. She stepped out of the library and began walking through the long corridors. She was sure she knew how to return to her room, but she ended up miserably lost. Hesitantly, she called out for Spotty.

With a crack, Spotty appeared in front of her, "Mistress be calling for Spotty?" Hermione got the elf to lead her back to her room. Idly, she wondered when she'd started calling it _her_ room. She still didn't quite want to believe she was a part of this side of the wizarding world. Dismissing Spotty, she sat down on the edge of the bed, thinking hard. Instinctively, she felt that everything she had read was right. She was a Pureblood. She was the sole heir of the House of Sagitta. All of the other Sacred 28 families had betrayed hers. At this, she felt a surge of anger spike through her. The Weasleys. They had treated her like a daughter, a sister. Even when things with Ron hadn't worked out, they had remained close friends. Somewhere down the line though, their family had helped make hers nearly extinct. She might not have existed and it was _their_ fault. She looked to the fireplace in her room. It was connected to the Floo. Stepping in and throwing the green powder down, she cried out, "Grimmauld Place." Stumbling into Harry's living room, she let the emotions wash over her, and burst into an uncharacteristic flood of tears as Harry came down the stairs.

"Hermione? Hermione, what happened? Are you hurt? Where have you been the past few days?" Harry shot off several more questions at her to which she just sobbed louder.

She began to speak, almost incoherently. Through her tears, she managed to choke out, "Everything… is falling… apart." Her best friend held her tightly, joining her on the floor. Her tears had nearly subsided when Ron's head poked through the fireplace.

"Harry, are you ready to go? Oh hey, Hermione. Wait, why are you crying? Hold on, I'm coming through. Just let m—"

Hermione screamed so viciously that Harry jumped back in surprise. "Stay the HELL away from me, Weasley," she spat out as she picked up the nearest object. The vase crashed into the fireplace, shattering loudly. In the hallway, the portrait of Walburga Black woke, and the woman began screaming like a banshee.

Harry rolled his eyes, getting up to go shut the curtains in front of the portrait. Hermione get up to follow him. The minute Walburga saw her, her shrieks grew louder. "Mudblood! Mudblood sullying my house! Filth!"

Hermione marched right up to the portrait. "Shut up. I'm not a mudblood." Harry stared at her, wondering what had gotten into his friend. Walburga sneered, asking who she could possibly be. Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Does the name Sagitta mean anything to you?"

The next moment was one for history books. Walburga's mouth, ready to make a cutting remark, snapped shut. Her eyes widened in fear, and the blood drained from her face. For a whole 15 seconds, she was silent. In a shaky voice she whispered, "No. No, you're not. All the Sagittas are dead. Gone. All dead. How do you know of them? They aren't in any books anymore. Who are you really?"

Standing tall and straight, Hermione accepted her identity, speaking coldly to the portrait. "I am Hermione Jean Granger Sagitta. You _will_ remember my name."

 **A/N: Reviews pretty please? I know many of you are reading this. Just an itty bitty review can make my day 3**


	5. Friend

**A/N: I know this is two days late. *gets boo-d* I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Last week was finals week, so I couldn't devote a lot of time to writing. I've also been going through a suckish temporary depression thing, and my muse kind of died. Not an excuse, I know, but it's the best I've got. Anyhow, here is this today. I made it longer than usual to make up for posting late. Be warned that the language is slightly stronger in this chapter than I normally write. I think it's still T, but do let me know if I need to change to M.**

 **Also, a huge thanks to Dagnita and FarTraveler31 for reviewing the last chapter! *hugs* I'm super happy to say that this story has more faves and follows than any of my other stories! Thanks!**

 **Enjoy!**

Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her away from Walburga's portrait. "What in the name of Merlin was that?!"

Hermione sagged onto the couch, all of the fight leaving her body, the stress of the past week catching up to her. She felt tears pricking at her eyes again, and dug the nails of one hand into the skin of her other palm, the slight pain just enough to keep her from crying or having a panic attack, but not deep enough to cut her skin. "I… I'm not who you think I am, Harry."

"Why, of course you are. You're Hermione Granger, brightest witch of our age. You –"

"I'M NOT! THAT'S THE POINT!" Hermione screamed louder than she'd intended. Harry, who was kneeling on the floor beside the couch, leaned back in astonishment. It was so rare for Hermione to lose her cool. And it wasn't the first time she had done so that day. Hermione sighed. "Maybe it's better if I just showed you…" She grabbed his wrist and disapparated to the Manor. As the squeezing sensation subsided, Hermione saw the iron gate for the second time in two days, in a similar distraught state but for an entirely different reason. She continued to drag Harry along with her, too caught up in planning how to tell him everything to notice his confused expression. To him, there was no Manor. It was simply just an open field, as no one not a Sagitta could see it, unless they were keyed into the wards. Hermione stepped through the gate, but as Harry's fingers passed through, he yelped as a burning sensation zapped through his veins. Hermione immediately let go of him, spinning around.

"What the hell, Hermione? What was that? Where did you go? Merlin, my hand hurts. It's even swelling now. Hermione!" In the tone of one in excruciating pain, Harry gritted out sentences rapidly, cradling his arm against his chest, looking around blindly for Hermione, who seemed to have disappeared. He tried to follow in the direction he last saw her in, only to be pushed back by another wall of pain. Curious and somewhat panicked, Hermione stepped back through the gate toward Harry. "Where were you? What the hell is going on? I swear to Gryffindor, this isn't funny." He ground out, writhing on the ground.

Hermione dropped down next to him, digging through her bag to find a potion for the pain. She pulled out the little vial and poured it past his lips. The convulsions subsided only slightly, and Harry lay there panting, almost twitching, and Hermione was reminded of the after-effects of the Crutiatus curse. "Harry, are you okay? What happened? Why didn't you follow?"

"What do you mean? You just disappeared!" Both were clearly confused by this point. Suddenly, Hermione slapped a hand to her forehead, and ran back into the manor, telling Harry to wait. He rolled his eyes, not yet recovered enough to move, much less to go anywhere. He watched as her retreating body disappeared. Laying his head down on the soft ground, he closed his eyes, curled into a ball against the effects of whatever curse was on the gate.

Hermione dashed inside and called for Spotty. When the small elf appeared, the witch breathlessly asked about the wards and the enchantments around the Manor. The elf told her that the Manor was invisible to anyone who the wards didn't accept. If someone tried to approach it, they would unknowingly be turned away from that direction, remembering something they had to do elsewhere. If the person saw a Sagitta disappear through the gate and attempted to follow, they would be inflicted with a dark curse only known to the family. Created by a witch in the family in the 1300s, it caused a pain similar to the Crutiatus curse, except no pain potion or spell would help the victim. Hermione gasped at this, her concern for Harry tripling. Spotty noticed this and disappeared with a crack, when she reappeared, Hermione heard the clink of vials. The elf reached out her hand to reveal three small bottles of a blue-purple potion. "Master Patroclus created an antidote, also only known to Mistress's family."

After learning how to key someone into the wards, Hermione dashed back outside to a quivering Harry Potter. Waking him from his tormented sleep, she poured the antidote past his lips. The shaking ceased immediately, and Harry began to stand up. "You've got some serious explaining to do."

"I already told you, I just have to show you," she said, pulling her knife from her bag. Harry took a step back, wondering if his friend had lost her mind. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Calm down. I just need to key you into the wards. Give me your hand. Please, Harry."

"What wards?!" he yelled back at her, still unable to see the Manor. Nevertheless, he held out his hand to her. She made a small cut on his palm, healing it with a wave of her wand. She let drops of the blood fall off of the silver blade, muttering the incantation Spotty had told her moments before.

"Harry, touch your wand to mine for a moment." She added another spell, and a faint glow emitted from the point their wands touched. Harry blinked as the Manor appeared in front of him. He stared at it in awe.

"Hermione. What is this?"

She smirked slightly at his awestruck expression. "Welcome to Sagitta Manor," she explained. She began pulling him through the gate, and he flinched fearing for the pain again, but he passed through with no issues.

"What is Sagitta? The is the second time I've heard you mention that word. Why did it make Walburga flip? I swear I've never seen that woman shut up." He asked just a few of the questions on his mind.

"Sagitta is Latin for 'the arrow'," she began, leading him through the foyer. She paused a moment to call for Spotty. When the elf appeared, Harry looked at her questioningly. Knowing he was remembering S.P.E.W and her campaign to free house elves, she shrugged and said, "This is Spotty. Spotty, this is Harry Potter. Harry, she's been so helpful, and I've just come to accept that this is how it is."

"Mister Harry Potter sir! It's is nice to meet you! Friend of Mistress must be good Mister." The elf spoke enthusiastically, bobbing her head. "Mistress, what can Spotty do? Is Mistress be needing to go to the library again, with Mister Harry Potter sir?"

Hermione nodded, stifling a laugh. The elf led them back through the long, winding halls, chattering about the various rooms. Hermione listened carefully, trying to remember everything, glancing occasionally at Harry, amused by his expression as he took in the grandeur of the Manor. When they reached the room, she dismissed Spotty and settled down on one of the couches. Harry sat next to her, and she turned to face him, noting that Neoptolemus was no longer in his portrait. Her best friend looked at her expectantly.

"Harry, you know how I've been gone this past week?" At his nod, she continued. "Remember the locket I always wore? My mother gave it to me; it has been passed down for generations in my family. When my mother was killed, I pushed the locket deep into a drawer and forced myself to forget about it. I haven't thought about it in two years. Last week, I felt it almost calling for me. I opened it, and a note fell out. In fancy handwritten script, it mentioned something about me being Pureblood and the heiress of Sagitta. A second note appeared, in my mother's writing this time. It simply said 'I'm so sorry, Hermione dearest. It's true.' When I looked at the first note again, more words appeared at the bottom. It just said 'The password is Home.' The locket turned into a portkey, and I found myself here."

She continued her story, relating all of the information she had found out. He was a wonderful listener, gasping and nodding at all of the right points. When she was done, she leaned back against the arm of the couch. "So…"

He stared back at her. "So… looks like it's you and me against the world. Let's go find out where you came from."

"You're serious? You'll stand by me?" she whispered with a hint of disbelief coloring her voice. "Even against Ron?"

"Clearly some families know and have passed on the information to their kids. Enough, at least for them to know they existed and that your return would mean hell for them. We need to find out if the Weasleys know. If they do know, and if they react badly to you afterwards, I don't care if they're almost family. They don't have that right. If it comes to it, I'll stand with you. Always, Hermione." He paused. "Now. For those who do know…"

"Let's go figure out how to get the sons of bitches back for destroying my family."

 **A/N: Hope you all liked the chapter! Let me know thoughts of course! In fact, I'll make a deal. When I hit 50 follows, 10 reviews, or 20 faves, I'll post double chapters! Also, I'll be at the beach on Sunday, so next update will be on Monday, just a heads up...**


	6. Ally

**A/N: Hey lovelies! I asked for 10 review, which I got (I was jumping up and down for like ten minutes, such excitement!). I promised another chapter this week, so look out for that on Thursday!**

 **This part is going to be some answers to reviews, so feel free to skip if you'd like. First of all, a huge shoutout to PADfootBalck, drakonpie250, and aussieKayz for reviewing.**

 **drakonpie250- You'll just have to wait and see :) it'll come up in the next chapter.**

 **guest1- Here's my idea for pairings. Hermione, as an eligible, and suddenly desirable Pureblood witch, will have many suitors looking for her hand in marriage. I'll write many random snippets of those scenes, but none of those will be the actual pairing. I also do agree that harems are meh. I'm still trying to narrow down who I want the pairing to be, and it's open for debate, but I narrowed it down to: Blaise Zabini, Terry Boot, Oliver Wood, or some random Muggle boy who Hermione dates just to spite the Pureblood culture. Thoughts?**

 **guest2- I totally agree. Hermione and Harry are essentially siblings. I wrote the ship once on request... never again haha.**

 **Once again, huge thanks. I love you all. Enjoy!**

Having never lost her love for planning out every step to her goals, Hermione began making a table. In the first column, she wrote down the names of each of the Sacred 28 families. Then, she made a note of their affinity towards Light, Dark, or Neutral magic and their current status in the wizarding world in terms of members. Some families had become extinct before she had even known about the wizarding world, while others perished in the course of the Second Wizarding War.

She and Harry brainstormed for a while, debating which families were most likely to still know about the Sagittas' existence and demise. Certainly, no one else knew anything about them as they were written out of the history books, but perhaps some of the ancient family tomes still held information. Clearly, Walburga had known, so they figured the Blacks had passed on the tale to some degree. The pair decided to question Andromeda and Narcissa, hoping they knew something. The Rosier line also only continued through them , checking off two of the 19 still extant families. Also, while visiting with Narcissa, they would have the opportunity to speak with Lucius. Not feeling quite comfortable with the directly approaching the other Dark families, Harry and Hermione agreed to then visit the Longbottoms and the Weasleys. As Molly was the last remaining member of the Prewetts, 6 families of various magical affinities would be accounted for.

Hermione felt as if she were missing something important. She sat back, looking over the information that she had, trying to remember. She glanced over the names again, stopping at Ollivander. In her mind she replayed the events of her first trip to Diagon Alley. She had stopped at the wandmaker's shop and had gone through 7 wands before she found the one that was hers. He had stared at her, almost eerily, as if he could see right through her. "You will make your family proud one day. With such a wand, we can expect you to stay straight and true." She had smiled brightly, gushing about how excited her parents were that she was a witch. She had handed him her seven galleons and turned to leave. She couldn't be sure to this day, but she'd thought she'd heard him whisper after her, "Straight and true. Like the arrow."

She gasped and stood up. Harry, standing over by a bookshelf, shut the book he was flipping through. "What is it?" he asked.

"Ollivander," she replied, "We need to go see Ollivander first. He knows." She grabbed his hand, and they apparated together to the wand shop. As it wasn't around time for new students to be getting their wands, the store was empty, save for the old man. "Mr. Ollivander," she greeted him.

"Ah, you've come. I was wondering when you would come into your inheritance." His eyes bore through her as he spoke, as was his usual way.

"So I was right. You do know about my family. Why haven't you said anything?"

He waved his wand, summoning two chairs in which the two young adults sat. "You, Miss Sagitta, are the first of your family to have entered my shop in four generations. In fact, your family was said to have died out before my time."

"But how did you know who I was? All those years ago..."

He nodded in acceptance of her question. "The Ollivanders, for generations, have passed down many secrets. From wandmaking, to the ability to read auras, to old secrets best left buried, I've been taught it all." He stood up quite suddenly. "I believe, Miss Sagitta, that you are in need of a new wand."

Hermione stared at him blankly, while Harry was absorbed with conducting more research out of a thick, dusty book. "A new wand? My old one is perfectly fine!"

Ollivander brushed aside her words and began opening boxes. She didn't dare argue for she knew he always had a method to his madness. She tried a few wands, and although she had enough control over her magic that nothing exploded, none of them felt quite right to her. Then, he brought out a wand from a pile of boxes in the very back of his shop. He handed it to her, and immediately, it felt perfect. Hermione felt her magic sing, rushing through the wand and back to her in an endless cycle. It was a rush she had forgotten over the past few years. Sometime during her Hogwarts days, she supposed, her wand stopped matching to her personality as well as it once had. She knew she had changed. She just hadn't realized how much, nor how that change affected her magic. She paid for her wand and sat back down, listening to the tale the wandmaker had been telling her as she tried the wands. A spell, a nasty one at that, had ensured that the family of wandmakers would never be able to share the plethora of information it had gathered, unless the asker had some prior knowledge of the subject and their reasons for wanting more information were not harmful to anyone.

She knew he could sense her desire for revenge, but she also realized that her reasons for wanting to know about her family were pure. That part, she just wanted to know so as to know herself better, to unravel this mystery she was caught up in. Ollivander told her what he knew of the betrayal. It seemed as if his family was less involved in covering up history than some others, namely the Blacks, the Weasleys, and the Gaunts. Hermione's eyes grew steely at the mention of the Weasleys. That betrayal certainly hurt the most, even if it was generations ago. Ollivander continued, detailing the lies and treachery, describing how every history book was burned and rewritten. Scores of witches and wizards were obliviated. Every piece of evidence was gone, except for Sagitta Manor, as the wards had made it impossible to find. He also shared the story of a young girl of his family who was betrothed to the last member of the Sagitta family before he faked his death. The girl vowed to never let her lover's family be forgotten, standing by his side always. She was kidnapped to keep her from spreading the truths buried so close to the surface. She struggled to break free, to fight for love, and in return, she was subjected to long sessions of the Crutiatus curse. When they proclaimed his death, she was released back to her family, a mere shadow of her former outgoing self. She locked herself in her room, weeping from the loss. So deep was her love that she never left that room again. Her family found her, a week later, dead of a broken heart, clutching a picture of the couple in a pale hand, cradling it tightly against her chest.

Hermione knew that he spoke nothing but what he understood to be the truth, and she, albeit warily, took up the offer of his help should she need anything while planning her revenge. Everyone, in her eyes, needed punishment, but some, she decided, needed much less than others. The Ollivanders had committed a horrible misdeed, but they had also betrayed one of their own, and suffered the consequences of a loss as a result.

The witch, now much more powerful because of her new wand, stood up and shook hands with the wandmaker. Harry rose after her and did the same. Hermione smirked with a glint in her eye. Now, with a dedicated, loyal, and vengeful best friend, and a strong, influential, and knowledgeable ally, she could interrogate other families and plot their demises from the inside out.

 **A/N: Next chapter: Hermione confronts Andromeda, Narcissa, and Lucius. Here is to a few heated conversations and flying hexes!**

 **As always, I love reviews, and all my followers, favorite-rs, and reviewers get lots of virtual hugs and chocolates and happiness!**


	7. Inquisition

**A/N: Another chapter, as promised, for the 10 reviews last time! It's one of the longest chapters yet, and I really enjoyed writing it! Also, I got 20 favorites, so looks like I'm gonna do another bonus Thursday chapter next week too!**

 **Responses to reviews:**

 **sonick- Sorry, I just don't see Flint as someone Hermione would be with. He failed his NEWTS, and we all know she's the perfect student. As for the other two, I stick with ships that are in a close age range. My personal belief is if said person is old enough to be your parent, you shouldn't date them. Hope the pairing doesn't turn you off the story though.**

 **Enjoy! And Happy New Year! Cheers for 2016!**

Hermione decided to immediately go visit Andromeda Tonks. Harry hadn't visited Teddy in a few weeks, so he apparated there with her, a new toy in hand for his godson. When the door swung open, a small blur cannonballed towards the pair with a shout of "Uncle Harry! Auntie Mi!" Harry handed Hermione the package he was holding and scooped the four-year-old boy in his arms, tossing him in the air gently before catching him. The boy giggled, and when Harry put him down, he dragged the man off to play. Hermione had the perfect opportunity to speak to Andromeda without anyone disturbing them. They made small talk, discussing brief overviews of their lives in the time that had passed since they'd last seen each other. As the conversation began to lull, Hermione brought up the reason for her visit.

"Andromeda…" she began. "I've recently come across a piece of news that's essentially turned my life around. What do you know about the Sagittas?"

"The arrows?" As a Black, the woman had learned many refined languages and had a strong base of Latin.

"Yes, I supposed. I meant the family, though."

"I've no earthly idea who you are referring to. Is this something you came across in your reading?" The look on Andromeda's face was one of pure confusion.

Hermione brought up the Sacred 28, something which Andromeda was well versed in. The version of events she related was the one that Hermione had more or less discovered from ordinary textbooks, the version that entirely denied the existence of the Sagittas. There were a lot of new details that she figured came from being directly involved in that elite group. She drank in all of the information, storing it away for future use, because of both her naturally inquisitive nature and her new-found agenda. Making a comment about it being insane that Andromeda knew so much, she was surprised at the response. Andromeda explained that her family had drilled Pureblood beliefs and society norms into her head since the age of about four. Her theoretical education was complete by the age of ten, and from that point onwards, she had had to play the part of the delicate, innocent, Pureblood princess. Suddenly, she stopped talking, thinking to herself.

"There was something though. It was only once I became of age that I was to learn it, some great family secret." She went on to explain that she'd been disowned at the age of 16 for her relationship with Ted. She had never learned the mysterious secret, but she'd never cared about it. By that time, she had already rejected most of the ideals and family heirlooms she'd been raised to cherish. She noted that she'd nearly forgotten about it until Hermione brought up her early education. The two pondered the possibility of said secret dealing with the Sagittas, although Hermione didn't divulge too many details. She was slowly developing a flair for dramatics, especially after hearing the advantages of such, as taught in Pureblood families.

Harry came in from the other room, a sleeping Teddy in his arms. While taking her grandson back from him, Andromeda advised Hermione to visit Narcissa. If the secret was what she needed to learn about, then the blonde witch most certainly would know. Thanking her, the two friends took off, stopping for a quick lunch. Over bowls of soup, Hermione shared the information she had learned and shared with Harry her conflict between following Pureblood traditions and living her life the way she had been. They discussed the advantages and disadvantages of each before tabling the subject for later discussion. Harry decided to go back to Grimmauld Place, whereas Hermione continued on to find more answers.

2 pm found her in front of Malfoy Manor, rapping on the door with the ornate brass knocker. A house elf opened the door and stood expectantly. Hermione asked for an audience with the masters of the house, all the while thinking how different the Malfoys' house elves were from Spotty. They eternally seemed to cower in fear, making sure to not appear over eager or disinterested. The one who had welcomed her, Dippy, went off to find Lucius and Narcissa, leaving Hermione standing in the overly grand foyer.

As she was waiting and looking around the room, Draco sauntered into the room. "Not used to seeing such pretty or expensive things, Granger? Don't touch anything now. Don't want to get your muggle germs on anything." He leaned casually against the door frame with an air of superiority. To his surprise, she simply laughed. "How dare you laugh at me, Mudblood?" he snapped.

"Oh come off it," she replied. "Perhaps you ought to be at this meeting too."

He drawled, "Do explain. Why on earth would I spend _more_ time in your presence?"

Just then, Dippy returned and began guiding Hermione to the sitting room. As she passed the door in which he was standing, she smirked, her head held high. "Maybe you might learn something new. Trust me, you're going to want to hear this." She winked slightly, and then continued onwards as if nothing had happened. Draco's eyes betrayed his shock, and only the utmost resolve kept him from spluttering. He mutely followed her to the room in which his parents were waiting.

They were seated on a couch facing a simple, wooden chair, a coffee table in between. Hermione stared at the chair that she was supposed to sit in, entirely unimpressed. Narcissa elegantly lifted an eyebrow when the girl simply waited. By this time, Draco was already seated.

"Oh, must I do everything?" Hermione sighed with fake exasperation. She waved her wand, and the chair transformed into something much more comfortable and posh. "Much better."

Narcissa glanced at her husband, not expecting that. "Well, Miss Granger. What brings you to our home today?"

"That's just it. It's Miss Sagitta, not Granger, due to the recent inheritance I've come into." Hermione cut straight to the chase, resulting in precisely the reaction she wanted.

"Excuse me?" Lucius asked, eyes wide.

Hermione smirked again. "Exactly what I said. Oh and Draco, dear. You might want to close your mouth. That expression is very unbecoming on you." The statement had quite the opposite effect; Narcissa's jaw dropped too at the way the other witch sounded just like a Pureblood princess.

In a state of utter disbelief, Narcissa snapped her fingers, calling another house elf to her and giving it a command. Toro returned with a vial of clear liquid, handing it to his mistress before disappearing again. "Forgive me for not believing you, but what you are saying is impossible. This is an inheritance potion."

Hermione took the vial and performed a series of diagnostic spells to ensure it wasn't poison of any sort. When the potion assumed a green glow momentarily, deeming the contents safe, Hermione took a sip. She looked entirely unsurprised when Narcissa informed her that she'd need to spill a drop of blood on a piece of parchment. She pulled out her knife from her robes. By now, she had gotten used to drops of blood forming into words, and the four people watched as the parchment identified her as truly a member of the Sagitta family.

Lucius, who had been sitting quietly all this time finally spoke up, his words dripping with malice. "Well, well. One seems to have escaped. Thank you, girl, for delivering yourself right into my home. I can finish the job my ancestors seem to have failed it. Should I take you to the drawing room where the blood I spill can join the old stain left by my sister-in-law's work?"

Hermione did not expect this in the least. Through sheer force of will, she kept her features schooled in a tight mask. She was about to say something, but the blonde woman beat her to it. "Lucius, please. She's a Pureblood, and Draco's age too. We have the prospect of setting up a marriage contract between the two."

At this, Hermione stood up. "Marriage? With your son? I'll be taking my leave now. Good day." No emotions changed on her face, even though there was a slight scoff to her tone. She turned on her heel and walked to the door. She was almost to it, when Lucius aimed a hex at her turned back. She blocked it without it turning around and continued on her way. She waved her wand once more, but nothing seemingly happened. Stepping past the wards, she apparated back to her own manor for a good night's rest.

When the Malfoys went to bed that night, they found little notes on their pillows, each only two words. They put them together to read, "You won't… get away... with that." Thus, they went to bed, shaking slightly. Meanwhile, in the privacy of her own room, Hermione's eyes gleamed into the darkness with triumph.

 **A/N: Read and review, please. Have a wonderful year my lovelies!**


	8. Confrontation

A/N: I'm still alive! I want to apologize for not updating in months; I really am sorry. I barely had time to write, and when I did, my muse didn't want to cooperate. I've had this half written just sitting on my computer, but only just finished it today. I do have a better idea of the next few chapters, and I'm going to do my best to update weekly, but we all know I'm not reliable. For those of you who lost interest in or hope for this fic, I'm sorry. For those of you still sticking around, thanks! I love you!

The Weasleys had taken her in. They had all but adopted the muggleborn who was lost in their world. She'd considered the Burrow home for ages, still going over for Sunday night family dinners, even after her amicable breakup with Ron. It hadn't been awkward then, not for her, nor for him. She was simply ingrained into their family. But now, she had a family of her own, even if there was no one there for her to celebrate that fact with. Oh, it was certainly a terrible situation, her adopted family partially responsible for ensuring the near extinction of her biological family. It was a terrible decision, to choose between those with whom she could have had a different life, and those whose influence shaped her into the person she was today. It was a terrible ordeal for sure. But blood runs thicker than water. With that in mind, Hermione knocked on the door of the Burrow, with all the air of a queen.

Molly swung open the door and smiled a warm motherly smile at her. She pulled the girl in for a hug, which the latter returned with precisely the actions that would be polite but nothing more. For all her resolve, the knowledge that it was them hurt her. This betrayal was by far the worst. Molly immediately noticed the coldness and pulled back, holding the girl at arm's length and looking her over. "Are you okay, my dear?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

For a moment Hermione nearly broke. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Slowly, she nodded. She was ushered into the house and into the living room where the rest of the family was gathered. Ron looked up from his game of chess with Bill. "Mione! Are you okay now?" The last time they'd spoken, she'd thrown a vase at this head.

Tersely, she replied with a simple no. She sat down on one end of a couch, her back stock straight. Immediately, a flood of Weasleys rushed to her, trying to figure out what was wrong. She simply sat, waiting for the crowd to quiet down, attempting to do her best imitation of the elite she knew. Unfortunately, that drew mostly from the Malfoys and Andromeda, a fact they quickly noticed. Questions upon questions were thrown at her.

At that moment, Harry flooed in, but everyone was too busy to notice. He cleared his throat as he worked his way over to the couch. He stood at the arm next to Hermione and convinced everyone to back away and prepare for the story of a lifetime. They all sat back, waiting and watching, wondering what story was dire enough for this sort of reaction. Hermione began delicately, but with an ever-growing steeliness in her voice. "I've been doing some research…" Everyone chuckled at this, and she narrowed her eyes slightly. "The research was into the history of Wizarding Britain. I came across a lot of information on lost families, some who'd disappeared, and others who had died out. In previous studies, of course, I'd heard of all of them. Except for one. The Sagitta family."

"The who?" asked Ron eloquently.

"The Sagitta, Ron. Pay more attention." Molly snapped at her youngest son. "Who are they, Hermione? Are you sure they are from Britain? I've never heard that name."

Harry was watching the others carefully. Molly seemed as sincere as ever, concern lining her face. Charlie, Fred, George, and Ginny sat in anticipation waiting for her to tell more of her story. Ron just looked confused as was his norm. Bill and Arthur however, exchanged and uneasy glance, before schooling their expressions into something much more curious and confused. Harry's eyes narrowed. A quick glance to Hermione let her know that the two knew more than they were letting on.

Percy self-importantly cleared his throat. "I'm surprised the rest of you don't know. Then again, it's somewhat of a Ministry secret. They were an ancient family who reigned terror upon Wizarding Britain. Horrible, really, the kind of devastation they caused. They all had to be put down like the vile creatures they were. However, when the Hit Wizards went to exterminate them, the cowards set their Manor aflame." Hermione bristled slightly, but only Harry noted her rising anger. Arthur nodded along, again shooting a glance towards Bill.

"So many ancient and noble families have certain traits, like the Malfoys have blonde hair, the Blacks have curly, black hair, and the Longbottoms have a slow-growing magical core that only becomes powerful later in life. Is there anything about the Sagitta family like that?" Hermione made sure to keep her voice curious and not vicious.

This time, Arthur spoke up. "Well, from what I know, they had very dark brown eyes, seemed like honest, straightforward people, until they were exposed to be what they were." Bill looked down at the ground. "They were rather intelligent; one of them invented Apparition, actually. Hated flying." This time it was Harry and Hermione who exchanged a glance. Arthur continued to list traits that described Hermione, without actually realizing it.

Molly cut in, "How do you know all this Arthur? I'd never even heard the name." Her husband's jaw snapped shut and he chuckled nervously.

"Ministry records, of course, love."

"But Dad," Percy chimed in, "I've never seen anything of the sort." The head of the Weasley household made some excuses about old paperwork, and looked more and more uncomfortable.

Ron made a comment about how Hermione made not knowing about something sound like a national crisis. The others laughed along with him, none of them having drawn the conclusion. Hermione saw Arthur join in as well, and the rage built up inside of her. The others watched aghast as he began to splutter and began clawing at his neck a second before he was dangling in midair, almost as if an invisible hand was holding him off the ground by his throat. Harry snapped out of his shock, and placed his hand on Hermione's arm, calming her enough to let the man she'd once seen as a second father back down. He fell back heavily against a wall, gasping for the breath, he'd been denied for nearly a full two minutes. Ginny didn't miss the interaction between Harry and Hermione and called them out on it.

Hermione nearly cracked, but managed to snap her mask in place. "I hate liars," she said by way of an explanation, before turning to Arthur again. "Now, the truth if you will." The man was still struggling to breathe, and she sighed. She looked at Bill. "And how about you? What is it that you know?"

"Me? I don't know anyth-".

The witch cut him off. "Really? You might want to rethink that answer." Bill felt invisible fingers against his neck and gulped. The rest of the family snapped out of their shock and confusion, yelling at Hermione.

Bill spoke up. "No. Sit down, you lot."

"Bill, stop. You aren't supposed to share." Arthur wheezed.

Molly spun around to him. "Share WHAT?" She glowered at him, her look promising a lot worse than his recent ordeal, and he gulped.

Out poured the story. Arthur shared the true version as had been passed down to him, which he had then passed onto Bill, as the eldest son. The Weasleys were in fact one of the families who had actively worked to cover up the history, rewriting the Sagittas into infamy. The Daily Prophet had been filled with people "finally speaking up" against the horrors the Sagittas had committed, all given false memories.

The mother of the family looked more and more upset as the tale unfolded, hurt and betrayed. As Arthur wrapped it up, he reached for her, but she shrugged him away.

Fred and George looked at Hermione, then at each other, then back at the young witch. "You're one of them," they spoke together. "You are, aren't you?" They turned to their father.

"You shouldn't have hidden this from us-"

"Especially not from mum."

"It's despicable."

"Disgusting."

"Horrific."

"Hey, Hermione, we just want you to know-"

"We have your back."

They finished with a flourish and a hug, which she accepted. They looked expectantly at the rest of their family. Arthur was still slumped against the wall, Molly swaying where she stood, looking so unsure of herself. Bill stared at the floor, and Charlie moved to wrap an arm around his brother. Ron spoke up, defending his father, and Ginny voiced her agreement, while also moving towards her mother.

The twins scoffed and put their arms around Harry and Hermione, leading them away from the house. Hermione spun on her heel, transporting them all to Sagitta Manor. If any of them had looked back, they would have seen Molly gazing after them, her heart torn.

A/N: Huge thanks again to those of you still reading. I can't believe so many people are still interested, and your lovely reviews do make my day. Also a huge thanks to my best friend and beta, RealInMyMind! Now the question is... am I still allowed to ask for reviews? Or should I wait til the next chapter is posted?


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